The Reckoning
by PunkRockScientist101
Summary: This is my version of the third Darket Powers book, directly following The Awakening. Who will they meet, who will they defeat, and who will end up with Chloe? This is my first fanfic, so cut me some slack please! : Please read and review! Enjoy :
1. Chapter 1: Nightmares and Memories

**A/N: Here's Chapter 1! I hope you guys enjoy it! Please read & review!**

**Chapter 1**

**Chloe POV**

_She walked through the forest into a moonlit clearing. The breeze was warm, and she could detect the faint scent of something floral. Closing her eyes, she took deep breaths, completely relaxed for the first time in a long time._

_After some time, there was a rustling of leaves behind her, and she turned, expecting, _hoping_, to see a wolf. Instead, she saw a corpse crawling toward her, its flesh long rotted away. Its clicking teeth were permanently fixed in a skeleton's horrible grin, and she could smell the scent of the death coming from it in waves. She stumbled back, only to hear a sickening crunch as she stepped on a second corpse's bony hand. She whirled to run, but found more skeletons dragging themselves into the clearing, their bones clattering together as they advanced toward her, their angry hissing drowning out her screams as they came closer and closer…_

I bolted upright in bed, my heart pounding in my chest as I awoke from my dream. As my breathing slowed, I glanced at the bedside clock. 4:30 a.m. I groaned internally, knowing that I wouldn't be able to get back to sleep after my nightmare.

As quietly as I could, I slipped out of my room and into the silent hallway. The others' doors were, not surprisingly, all still closed, and I could hear somebody—one of the boys—snoring loudly. I made my way along the hallway and down the stairs, wincing when the wooden floorboards of the old house creaked as I tiptoed across them.

Once I was downstairs, I paused, struggling to remember where Andrew had told us the kitchen was on our informal tour of the safe house the night before. After several wrong turns, I finally found it. The walls were pale, though in the dim light I couldn't quite tell what color they were—yellow, maybe? The stove, microwave, and oven looked at least of few years outdated, but the refrigerator was large, and judging by the humming sound it was emitting, in working condition. In the middle of the spacious room, there was a sturdy-looking table surrounded by an assortment of mismatched chairs. The light coming through the windows was just enough for me to make my way over to the refrigerator, my mind filling with thoughts of hot chocolate. I managed to locate a gallon of milk and a mug with little time, trouble, and noise. I was heading to the microwave to heat the milk, praying that it would work, and that I would be able to find some hot chocolate mix, when a deep voice behind me said, "What are you doing up this early?"`

I jumped, startled, and some of the milk sloshed out of the cup and onto the floor. I spun around to see Derek watching me with an amused expression.

"I can't cut a break, can I?" he said as I set the mug on the counter and grabbed

some paper towels. "You'd think that after all we've been through, you wouldn't be so jumpy."

"If you wouldn't sneak up on me…" I hinted. He just rolled his eyes with a snort and headed to the refrigerator. As I knelt on the floor and wiped up the milk, I couldn't help but look at him as he rummaged through the food.

He had obviously been out running in the woods surrounding the safe house. His thin white t-shirt clung tightly to his chest, and I could smell a hint of evergreen mingling with his sweat. The light from the fridge lit up his face, and I noted that he looked better—his acne wasn't so bad, and he didn't look like the subject of a puberty-smackdown anymore. A shock of his black hair fell over one of his eyes, which were glowing brightly in the dim light.

Derek must have felt my stare, because he glanced over at me. I flushed red, and turned my attention back to the floor.

"So what are you doing up this early?" he repeated his earlier question as he poured himself a bowl of cereal.

"I-I couldn't sleep," I stuttered, not meeting his eyes as he shot me a look. "R-really," I insisted.

"Chloe," he said, exasperated. "You stutter when you're lying. What happened?"

I sighed, mentally cursing my stutter, though some small part of me was glad that he knew me so well. "I just had a dream about r-raising some g-ghosts."

In an instant he was in front of me. "Chloe, what happened? Did you raise any?" His tone was urgent, and his eyes were boring into mine.

"N-no. It was just a dream." _I hope._

He nodded, relaxing, his relief showing in his eyes. As he returned to his earlier position of leaning against the counter eating, I thought of a question of my own.

"What are _you_ doing up this early?" I asked him, refilling my mug and popping it into the microwave.

Derek shrugged, muttering something about needing to stretch his legs. I immediately wondered if he was coming up on another Change. Would this be the one? Would he finally complete his Change into a wolf?

When I asked him if he thought he might Change soon, he merely shrugged again.

"I don't know when it's going to happen again," he said, staring out the window.

"Do you think that next time…that it might be the one?" I didn't have to say anything else; he knew exactly what I meant.

He ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't know." As he finished speaking, he glanced at me, and in his green eyes I could read everything that he hadn't—couldn't—say. He didn't know when he would be able to complete the transformation. He didn't even know if he could, what with the genetic modifications of the Edison Group. He just didn't know.

I opened my mouth to say something, anything, to reassure him, but Andrew picked that moment to trundle into the kitchen, yawning loudly.

"Morning kids," he mumbled, bleary-eyed, as he shuffled to the counter and robotically turned on the coffeemaker.

"Morning," I replied, returning my attention to my cooling cup of milk. I rummaged through the cabinets until I managed to find a tin of hot cocoa mix that looked as if it had been through both World Wars. I resisted the urge to check the expiration date and spooned some of it into my mug.

Cradling it in both hands, I walked over to the table and slowly lowered myself into one of the chairs. Derek had sat down a few chairs away and was staring absentmindedly out the window at the grounds. Following his gaze, I looked out over the lush, somewhat uncontrolled grass, growing thickly out to the edge of the forest. The forest itself was cloaked with a layer of mist; the tops of the trees, which were mainly evergreens, just barely visible emerging from it. I could see that there was much undergrowth; I briefly wondered how Derek had run through it all. The sky was overcast, the clouds dense. I shivered involuntarily at the thought of the rain they would bring, and Derek looked my way, eyebrows raised. I was spared formulating an answer, however; Andrew had finally gotten his coffee, and was sitting down across the table from us.

"So how did you two sleep last night?" he asked after a few sips of his coffee.

"Fine," I answered, glancing at Derek as I did. If Andrew noticed this, he gave no indication of it, just nodded and turned to Derek.

"Alright," he rumbled. I could hear a strain in his voice as he spoke the word, and immediately remembered the awkwardness of the previous day, when Andrew and Derek had first been reunited. The disbelief, shock, and fear mingling on Andrew's face, and the pain and hurt masked under Derek's gruffness. My heart ached as I pictured the scene, and I cleared my throat, hoping to dispel some of the tension.

"You told us last night that this was a supernaturals' house. Are there other supernaturals here too? Or is it just us?" I questioned Andrew.

"To the best of my knowledge, there are two sorcerers, one witch, and two half-demons here at the moment, though I'm not entirely sure," he said, rubbing his chin. "I haven't been here in awhile, and others from the supernatural community who are against the Edison Group come and go at will. However, I believe the house is relatively empty at the moment."

I nodded, secretly relieved that there were few other people in the safe house, although I did feel a twinge of disappointment that there wasn't another necromancer here. I could have used somebody to show me the ropes.

The three of us sat in silence after that—not exactly a tense silence, but not an entirely comfortable one either—as Andrew and I sipped from our mugs, and Derek resumed staring out the window, lost in his thoughts.

At some point, Derek left, saying that he was going to take a shower. Andrew soon followed, intent on discovering exactly who else was occupying the house at the moment. I stayed at the table, thinking about all that had happened since that first fateful day that I had begun to see ghosts. If somebody had told me three weeks ago all that we would go through, I would have laughed them off, telling them that it would make a great plotline for an action film. Now I looked back on our adventures with something like awe. We had escaped, and we had survived. We had made it.

Now if we could only keep it up.

"Chloe? Are you ok?" Simon broke into my thoughts.

"W-what?" I blinked and looked over at him. His blond hair was damp and spiky, as usual, and he had on jeans and a blue t-shirt.

He chuckled. "I walked in and you were zoned out. I was worried that you had fallen asleep again." I laughed and stretched. "So how long have you been down here?"

Simon asked as he sat down next to me with a plate of toast.

"I don't know. What time is it?"

"About 7, I think."

"Then…about 2 ½ hours. Andrew and Derek were here earlier."

He nodded. "That's what Andrew told me when I bumped into him on my way to shower."

"Speaking of showers, is anyone in there at the moment? I want to wash this out of my hair," I said, indicating to the dull black dye in my hair.

"I don't know. Tori headed in there after me, and knowing her, she'll be in there for awhile."

I grinned. He had her pegged.

"So," Simon said, finishing the last of his toast. "Any idea what the plans for today are?"

I opened my mouth to tell him that I didn't know, but Andrew walked through the doorway and answered for me.

"Today you're going to meet the other supernaturals that are here, rest, and recuperate. Tomorrow we'll start planning for our attack on the Edison Group, but you guys need a break after all that you've been through."

"How about a shopping trip? I _need_ some new clothes," Tori said, appearing in the doorway. Simon rolled his eyes at me, and I resisted the urge to giggle.

Andrew sighed. "We can't really afford to risk being seen in public at the moment, Tori. The Edison Group is on high alert, and if they see any of you…" he trailed off.

Tori rolled her eyes. "So we wear disguises, and be careful. It's just shopping." She glanced at me. "Chloe needs more hair dye anyways."

"Tori, I don't think—"

"Oh, lighten up, Andrew. A shopping trip wouldn't hurt anything," a bright voice said from behind Tori, who jumped, startled.

The speaker slipped around Tori and into the kitchen. She was a petite and had short, messy brown hair that was colored a shocking pink at the ends. Her black jeans were stylishly ragged, and there was a diamond stud in her nose. She bounced over to Andrew and gave him a quick hug.

"It's good to see you again, Trace," Andrew said with a tired but warm smile.

"It's been awhile, hasn't it? You need to visit us more often," she said with a laugh, a light tinkling sound, before to turning back to Tori. "So you want to go shopping, huh?"

Tori nodded, unsure of what to say.

"Excellent! I've needed a shopping partner," Trace said with enthusiasm. "No one else around here ever wants to go."

Andrew rolled his eyes. "Trace, it's really too—"

She cut him off. "We'll be fine. Like my new partner said, it's just shopping." She smiled at Tori, who actually smiled back. Who knew? That girl was so unpredictable sometimes.

"Besides," Trace continued, "I can take care of us if anything happens to go wrong. And I'm sure she—Tori, right?—will be able to help, if the situation arises, as well."

"What powers do you have?" Simon asked, curiosity strong in his voice.

"I'm a half-demon with the power of fields—force fields, magnetic fields, protective fields—you name it, I have it. I also have the extra gift of being able to sense relationships between people; the fine details of people's interactions. It comes in handy quite a lot," she added with a wink.

Andrew sighed. "Fine. You guys can go, but at least take one or two of the others with you. There's safety in numbers."

"Thank you!" trilled Trace. She gave Andrew another quick hug, then looked him in the eye and said, "Don't worry so much, Andrew. It gives you wrinkles!"

At that, everyone had to laugh, even Andrew.

Eventually, Trace and Tori managed to talk Simon into going with them, mainly because they didn't know what to get for him or Derek. The pair then dashed off, no doubt to wrangle someone else into their shopping scheme. I, meanwhile, decided to take advantage of the house's running water and water heater.

The hot water pounding down on my shoulders felt incredible. I think I may have actually groaned with pleasure. It was great to be able to finally wash the greasy black dye from my hair, and to scrub off all the grime I had=d acquired over the past few days. As I toweled off, I evaluated my cuts and scrapes. None seems too serious; the cut under my eye didn't look infected, and while the stitches were beginning to come out, the wound on my arm seemed to be healing fine. I made a mental note to keep an eye on it though. My hair also looked better, I noticed, as I ran a brush through it. Most of the black dye had washed out, leaving my hair a light dishwater color. I smiled as I wrapped my towel around me and went to my room to change.

**Derek POV**

From my room, I could hear Chloe sighing with enjoyment as she took a shower, I was glad that she was happy, even briefly—she deserved it after all she had been through these past few days. I knew that it had been hard on her, discovering that we Edison Group experiments, learning of Rae's betrayal, and seeing her aunt possible killed, and I also knew that I hadn't helped that. I had yelled and gotten pissed at her, and then I had dragged her into the fiasco following my partial Change. Not to mention putting her in future danger from the two werewolves that we had met, Liam and Ramon.

Liam and Ramon…of our entire encounter with them, several things stood out, and kept running through my head. One of them was their remark regarding my likeness to Zachary Cain. Could he have been my biological father? Ramon had said that I was around the right age, and had his look. Could I really be a Cain? I wasn't sure if I wanted to be one or not, for one thing, if I was, it certainly wouldn't put me on better terms with the Pack.

The second thing that kept cropping up was what Liam had said about Chloe being my mate. All I had done was defend her, shield her from them as voice screamed a single thought in my head: "Keep her safe!" I tried to see how, from my actions, they would have come to the conclusion that she was my mate, but failed. Maybe they were mistaken—they didn't understand that anyone who knew Chloe would protect her; that she was too good not to save. Deep down in me, though, there was a part of me that liked that Liam and Ramon had mistaken her as my mate. I attempted to determine why I liked it, but I couldn't come up with anything, just a nameless feeling that felt some pride at their words.

The third item whirling through my brain was very closely related to the second, and was the one that came up the most. The sound of Chloe's voice as she defended me against Ramon's assessment of Cains, and how I fit the part perfectly, replayed endlessly in my head. The anger that laced through her words as she immediately faced off against Ramon for me. The same small piece of me that like her being mistaken for my mate felt hope at each remembrance of this. _Hope for what?_ I asked myself again and again, each time getting no answer except for an instant replay of the moment, accompanied by a jolt in my chest when I heard her voice.

As I thought about it now, I tried futilely to squash that part of me. I didn't understand it, but I knew that if I let it stay, it would only complicate further our already complicated lives. Chloe was Simon's girl, and she had only defended me the way that she would have anybody else, even Tori.

At the thought of Tori, I laughed. She had found a fellow shopper here among the other supernaturals, and they were already planning an excursion for later today. The other supernatural, Trace, had persuaded one of the sorcerers, Xavier, and the other half-demon, whose name was Adrian, but went by Age, to go with them, as well as Simon. Chloe, along with Andrew, opted to stay home, though Chloe did give Tori specific instructions on what to pick up for her. I had done the same with Simon—I wasn't keen on going shopping, partly because Tori would be there, and especially since Ramon and Liam would still be looking for me.

And partly because that tiny part of me wanted to be close to Chloe.

**A/N: How was that? I promise that the next few chapters will be more exciting!**


	2. Chapter 2: Secrets of a SN Safehouse

**A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update! I've been really busy with school and training, but here is Chapter 2! Enjoy and review please.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Darkest Powers. That right belongs to Kelley Armstrong, the lucky girl. **

**Chapter 2: Secrets of a Supernatural Safehouse**

"See you guys tonight!" Trace called as she drove the minivan full of the shopping party away from the house.

I waved along with Andrew; Vladimir, who was the other sorcerer, and Shiraz, the witch, as the van sped away. Derek merely watched them leave, leaning against the doorframe.

Once they were out of sight, Andrew launched the rest of us on an expedition to determine what we needed in the house necessity-wise: food, medical supplies, repair materials, and necessary household items. Essentially, everything we would need to survive and inhabit the safe house. The other supernaturals had supplies, but not enough to sustain the addition of our group.

About an hour after we had set out, we reconvened around the kitchen table, each with a list of needed supplies. Vladimir called Trace and the others and asked them to stop by a few more stores to pick up some extra bedding, rugs, and bedroom furnishing for the rooms that we would be sleeping in; right now, we were borrowing from the original group here. Andrew and Shiraz, meanwhile, planned for a shopping trek of their own for everything else. I watched alone on the outskirts, Derek having disappeared as soon as possible. Wondering where he was, I excused myself and went to look for him.

The first few rooms that peeked into along the hallway were currently uninhabited, blanketed by a soft quiet. There was an impressive looking entertainment room, complete with plasma flat screen and enough electronic devices to make any geek think he was in heaven. Across the hall from that was an old tearoom of sorts; there were several china cabinets, a large stone fireplace, and several armchairs and loveseats. Further down the hall I found a large conservatory. A large bay window let the little light that could get through the thick clouds into the room, and plants, many of them tropical looking, covered almost every surface.

The fourth door that I opened, however, led to a library. Shelves stretched up from the floor to the high ceiling, completely packed with books. Comfortable looking armchairs and couches were scattered between the shelves, often accompanied by a side table with a reading lamp or potted plant. Thick rugs layered the floor, and a weak light filtered through the strained glass windows. The room was quiet, though not eerily so.

Unknowingly, I had walked into the room as I took it in, and now I was struck with a thought. If this was a library in a supernaturals' house, then there was a good chance that it would contain books about supernaturals, books about necromancers.

Books that could help me understand and control my powers.

As I approached the shelves, I noted with much relief that the books were arranged on the shelves alphabetically according to their subjects. I quickly moved through the shelves, flicking on lamps as I went, slowing as I reached "N". I searched, but I couldn't find anything on necromancers, even though I looked multiple times. Out of spur-of-the-moment curiosity, I looked for a book on werewolves. Again, I found nothing. The same thing happened when I attempted to locate books on sorcerers, witches, or half-demons. Frustrated, I flopped into one of the library's plush armchairs.

Directly in front of my chair was a painting of what looked to be a battle scene. Normally, I would have looked away from such a painting, but something about this one held my eye. It seemed familiar, in a way…

When it came to me why it did, it took my breath away.

The reason the fight scene looked so familiar to me was because of the way it was being fought. Those flashes weren't lightening or bursts of fire from the barrels of guns; they were bolts of electricity springing from the hands of several of the people depicted. What I had taken to the battle's wounded crawling along the ground were really corpses, flesh rotted away, teeth grinning horribly as they advanced, controlled by

By now, I was on my feet, standing right before the painting. I could see the anger and the fear on the people's faces, and the blood on the ground. On a cliff above the battle was a single wolf. This lone figure caught my attention not only because he was so obviously a werewolf; rather, it was because of where he was looking. Instead of looking at the battle raging below him, he was staring away. Bidden by some instinct, I followed his gaze, out of the picture frame and onto the wall across the way, the wall that I know noticed had an odd seam between its shelves.

I hurried over to the shelves, excitement rising. However, despite all my pushing and pulling, the seam remained the same. I was just about to turn away, berating myself for being so foolish as to think that there was actually a secret door in the library, when a voice that sounded like it belonged to a woman who had smoked too many cigarettes rasped in my ear, "Try behind _The History of Deception_."

I jumped and looked behind me, though I already knew that it had been a ghost talking.

"Behind _The History of Deception_, " the voice prompted.

Praying that this wasn't some kind of trap, I reached up with a trembling hand, and pulled out the book, half-expecting something to jump out at me.

Instead, set into the back of the bookcase, there was an old, worn lock, the type that needs a five-digit code to unlock.

"The code is in the back of the book…" the ghost whispered in my ear.

I quickly flipped to the back of the book and found the code: 74381. Holding my breath, I carefully rolled the digits into place on the lock. As I rolled the "1" into place, there was a dull, muffled click from somewhere behind the bookshelf.

"Push," the voice rasped before I could ask, and I obliged, pushing on the packed shelves. Slowly, the wall angled inward, creating a narrow opening that I could just barely slip through. I took a step toward it, then hesitated, wondering if I should get Derek to come with me.

"Go," the ghost said, deciding me with her next words. "Go, and find what you are looking for, child."

Overcome by my curiosity, I slipped though the sliver of an opening, and into the secret passage.

Once I had slipped through the hole in the shelves, however, I realized that the passage wasn't a passage—it was a hidden library. This circular room was much more ornate than the one which I had just left, and it was immediately apparent that it contained everything that I hadn't been able to find. Titles jumped out at me; topics, words, hundreds of books about us, about supernaturals. I walked around the room in some kind of a dazed, pulling out books and flipping through them, marveling at all of the information collected and stored with this room.

As I circled the room, questions flitted through the back of my mind like cars around a track. Who's library was this? Why had they made it? If this was a supernaturals' house, why were the books concerning supernaturals hidden away?

And what in the world was the odd map laying on the desk for?

Curiosity sparked yet again, I bent over it. It looked to be a diagram of the house. I could see the kitchen, the bathroom, the first library…and the second one. And from this, there were other lines leading off, hallways to room that I didn't remember other hallways going to, doorways in places that there weren't any doorways.

It was a map of secret passages.

**A/N: How was that for a cliffy? I promise I'll post the next chapter soon…the more reviews, the sooner!!! Review, review, review!!**

** ~PunkRockScientist**


	3. Chapter 3: The Unseen and The Unexpected

**A/N: I had a lot of ideas for this chapter, but I've got them all sorted out lol. Huge hugs to those of you who reviewed! Here's Chapter 3!**

**Chapter Three: Unseen Passages, Unexpected Scares, and Unknown Feelings**

**Chloe P.O.V.**

With trembling hands, I pushed aside a bookshelf within the hidden library, revealing the opening of the first secret passage leading off of the supernaturals' library. I took a deep breath, checked that I had the map, and flicked on the old flashlight that I had found in a desk drawer. I chuckled silently to myself as I took the first step inside, thinking about the last time I had used a flashlight—it had been with Rae, in the crawl space under the Lyle House, and she had very effectively illustrated an untraditional usage of cleavage as she snuck it from the kitchen. I briefly wondered how she was doing, then pushed the thought from my mind—now was not the time.

The air in the narrow corridor, which I assumed ran between the thick walls of the house, was—surprisingly—not stale, considering that it seemed to have been closed up for quite awhile, if the thick layers of dust coating the floor and walls were any indication.

Eventually, I came to a 90-degree fork in the tunnel. After consulting the worn map, I took the right-hand passage, because according to the map, it lead directly past Tori, Simon, Derek, and mine bedrooms, complete with secret openings into Derek's and mine. Maybe I could check if Derek was in his room; if he was, it would save me time searching this huge house for him, I rationalized.

Creeping forward as quietly as I could just in case he could hear me, I made my way down the corridor until I found the first peephole into one of the rooms. With a glance through the dusty vent that disguised it, I identified the room as Simon's; the drawings already scattered around the sparsely furnished room made it obvious who inhabited it.

The next two rooms were Tori's and mine. Like Simon's room, the peepholes into our rooms were hidden behind ventilation shafts. Using the map, I found the opening into my room. All of the bedrooms had paneling from the floor to just above waist height, and in my room, a whole section could be pulled out and slid in front of the rest, creating a large, square opening into the secret tunnel. After experimenting with it a few times, I moved on to the last room: Derek's.

I approached the now familiar vent, and with something like apprehension, I looked in.

The first thing I noted was that I had finally found Derek. He was leaning against the edge of his window, looking out over the grounds and toward the fog-enveloped forest. Though he was relaxed, his muscles were still quite obvious under his long-sleeved black t-shirt, which was tighter than the ones he usually wore—it was borrowed from Xavier, just as my clean jeans, white tank top, and charcoal hoodie were borrowed from Shiraz. His almost-dry hair was slightly tousled, as if he had run his hand through it several times. As I watched, he took a deep breath, and appeared to appreciate a scent that he had just caught, his eyes shutting as he almost smiled. I really hoped that he couldn't smell me, hiding behind his vent spying on him.

I felt slightly guilty for watching him, but I couldn't find it in myself to turn away. Somewhere, there was a sense of relief that I could finally look at Derek, really look at him for the first time since we left the Lyle House, without him or anyone else interrupting, or me getting self-conscious when he noticed. As I had noted earlier that morning, most of his acne had faded, leaving his skin unblemished over his strong jawbone and high cheekbones. His hands were large, and I could imagine their heat and slight roughness as I looked at him. Standing there, he didn't look like a normal 16 year old; he was too tall, his muscles too developed. He sighed, and I felt a pang of pity for him. I wished there was something I could do to ease some of the pressure from him; I knew how hard this was on him, with his partial Changes, and the looks that Andrew and some of the others couldn't seem to help giving him. I wanted to run into his room and wrap my arms around him and tell him that it would all be ok. It was irrational, I knew, but I wanted to protect him from the looks, the flashes of fear in the others' eyes that I knew were hurting him, even if he didn't let it on.

From somewhere in the house, I distantly heard Andrew's voice, calling for Derek and I. Derek sighed again, and walked out of his room, shutting the door behind him. I sighed as well, then turned and quickly jogged back to the secret library. Once there, I replaced the map and the flashlight on the desk, and moved the bookshelf back into place, so that it was impossible for anyone to tell that it had moved. I made a quick stop in one of the tiny bathrooms to wash the dust off of my hands, and headed to the kitchen.

"There you are, Chloe," Andrew said as I walked into the room. He, Vladimir, and Shiraz were clustered around one end of the kitchen table, and Derek was leaning against one of the counters, his expression unreadable. He looked at me and our eyes met, but I quickly looked away, fearing that he would somehow guess what I had been up to. I did, however, walk over and hop up on the counter next to him as Andrew continued.

"We've got a second list of essentials that we'll need to get in order to live here. The three of us have decided to go and get it all now; the sooner, the better—we don't know when something could happen, and we don't want to be caught without the necessary items for survival. You two are staying here; you'll be fine on your own. After all, you've made it this far on your own. " He said the last part with a smile.

"While we're gone, it would be a big help if you guys could move some of the spare furniture from the attic to the bedrooms that your group has chosen. They're a little under-furnished right now, and there are plenty of desks, dressers, and such that you can move into them in the attic, if you want," Shiraz told us as Andrew grabbed the keys to the second van, and she and Vladimir shrugged into their coats.

"Stay in the house, and stay safe," were Andrew's parting words as they walked out the door, which shut with a secure thud.

There was a moment of silence as we both stared after them, then Derek pushed away from the counter and turned to me.

"Ready to brave the attic, and get that furniture down to the rooms?"

"Sure," I said as I slipped off the counter. "Lead the way."

**Derek P.O.V.**

I lead the way up to the attic of the safehouse, Chloe closely following me. I opened a door at the end of a hallway on the third floor, revealing a flight of narrow, rickety stairs. I bounded up them 3 at a time, barely even noticing the extra stretch. At the top, I stopped and surveyed the attic. A healthy layer of dust covered everything. Dim light filtered in through two bay windows on either end of the room, providing just enough light for a normal person to see by. With my werewolf senses, I had no trouble seeing in pitch darkness, and the small amount of light coming through the windows was plenty enough for me.

"Wow, it looks like it's been awhile since anyone has been up here," Chloe said as she climbed up the last step and looked around. I grunted in agreement before making my way over to a large mass slightly off to our left. It was covered in a dusty white sheet, and had numerous corners and edges jutting out at various angles. Reaching up, I grabbed a handful of the material and gave it a swift tug, causing it to cascade off of the pile, which turned out to be a huge collection of furniture, jumbled haphazardly together.

Behind me, I heard Chloe sneeze violently in rapid succession, and was immediately enveloped in remorse.

"Sorry," I said, glancing at her over my shoulder.

She waved my apology away, saying, "Don't worry about it, Derek. I'm fine; it was just a little dust."

Not entirely convinced, I turned back to the heap of furniture, sizing it up.

"Why don't we start by separating all this, and then we can figure out what we want to move downstairs. This is too much for us to use all of it; we can just take what we want, and leave the rest up here," Chloe suggested as she approached the pile and started lifting out a bedside table.

"Sounds reasonable," I said as I went over to help her.

Within an hour, we had separated about half of the furnishings from the pile. The attic looked like an overcrowded furniture shop that badly needed to invest in a maid and some lighting.

Chloe stepped back to survey our accomplishments, her hands on her hips.

"Think we can start moving some stuff downstairs now?" she asked me.

I looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "_I_ will start moving stuff downstairs. I don't think that you getting squished was on today's agenda. You can tell me what goes where."

I barely contained my laughter as she glared at me, her blue eyes narrowed and her lips set in a slight pout.

"Just because I'm not crazy strong doesn't mean that I can't help, you know," she informed me.

"All the same, in the spirit of no broken bones, you'll be directing," I told her. Before she could argue some more, I walked over and lifted a chest of drawers. "Where are we taking this one?"

Chloe rolled her eyes, but said, "Simon's room, I think. We'll let Tori have the vanity." She slipped down the attic stairs before me and held the door open. It was a tight fit, and my arm brushed against hers as I came through, sending a tingling up my arm that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I didn't understand my reaction, or why that little part of me was ecstatic, but I brushed it from my mind to ponder later.

Continuing in this manner, the two of us progressed quickly. Simon's and Tori's rooms were soon completely furnished. Mine would have been next, but I insisted that we do Chloe's next. She always put the rest of us before herself; I was determined to at least put her before myself. She had earned, and most definitely deserved, that much, and more. In true Chloe fashion, she chose the simplest items, and always checked that I hadn't wanted it in my room before she took it. It amazed me just how selfless she was, no matter the circumstance, no matter if she was being selfless for a nice guy like Simon or a monster like me.

Though I attempted to persuade her into moving a few more pieces into her room, she insisted that all she needed was a bedside table, an aged wooden desk, and a matching chair. I was able to talk her into a dresser with a mirror rising above it, but only after much convincing, and agreeing to move on to my room.

We had just moved a small bedside table and dresser into my room, and I was trying to figure out where they would fit best. Chloe was standing in the doorway, watching me. A silence had fallen between us, and while it wasn't uncomfortable, the stillness bothered me.

"Do we have any more desks upstairs?" I asked her as I shoved the bed over to make room for the bedside table, more to make conversation than anything else.

"I'm not sure. I'll run up and check ok?" Before I could protest and tell her that I was just wondering, she was gone. I mentally smacked myself for making more work for her, but continued to arrange the new furniture in my room.

I had just maneuvered the dresser into place against the half-paneled, half beige wall when I heard a distant groan, and the sound of something heavy slowly shifting, faintly grating. It seemed to be coming from somewhere above me, but I couldn't place just what it was, or what could be causing it. Then something clicked in my head, and I thought of all of the furniture balanced precariously in a jumble, and Chloe trying to find a desk…

Without a second thought, I sprinted out of my room and up two flights of stairs toward the attic. The wolf in me and the tiny part of me that enjoyed being around her so much were both shouting at me to get to her, to keep her safe. I was almost to the attic door when I heard a scream.

Chloe.

I reached the top of the stairs with just enough time to see a large wardrobe sliding sideways toward Chloe, who was trying to scramble out of the way.

It was falling faster now, gaining momentum, and she wasn't going to make it.

_GO!!! _a voice screamed in my head, drowning out all other thoughts.

In a flash, I had dashed in front of her, my back to the wardrobe and my hands braced on either side of her against the wall. The heavy wood crashed onto me less than a second later, and I grunted with the effort it took to hold it up. Using my unnatural strength, I heaved backwards and sent it in the opposite direction, where it landed with a reverberating thud.

As the echoes faded, I looked down at Chloe, both my human and wolf side frantic with worry.

"Are you ok?" I asked her, my voice low with anxiety.

"I-I'm f-f-fine," she managed to stutter, her eyes wide. I could smell the fear coming off of her, as well as the adrenaline. I quickly looked over her, searching for any injuries, but to my relief I found none.

"Thank God," I said, relaxing my still-tensed muscles, my shoulders sagging down. "What happened?"

"I-I was just t-trying to move one of the t-tables and something gave, and the wardrobe s-started f-falling, and I couldn't get out of the way…" she trailed off with a shudder, then looked up at me. "I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't been here, Derek…thank you."

Her voice was fervent, her eyes were burning into mine, and I could clearly see her gratitude. I opened my mouth to tell her how thankful I was that she was ok, but I suddenly couldn't remember what I was going to say. I realized just how close we were; I was still leaning over her protectively, an arm on either side of her, our faces mere inches apart. Her beautiful blue eyes were looking up at me, and she didn't look away when I met them with my green ones. I noticed things that I had never noticed before—how her eyelashes curled up at the ends, how her lips had a perfect double curve, how the half-healed scar under her eye added to her beauty instead of being a blemish upon it. I sensed a change in her breathing, and smelled a new scent coming from her—a sweet scent that washed over me in waves, intoxicating me.

Emotions rushed in a flood through me, and I was hot and cold, fearless and scared to death. I didn't know what I was feeling, what I was thinking, what I was doing. All I could see were her eyes, her endless, sparkling, amazing eyes, looking back into mine and making me feel things I'd never felt before.

I don't know how long we would have stared into each other's eyes, or what I would have done if it had continued for much longer. All too soon, however, I heard a car pull into the driveway, shortly followed by the sound of the front door opening.

"Derek! Chloe! We're home! Come help unload everything!" Trace shouted. I could hear the others' voices now, and I knew that we had to go.

I slowly dropped my arms to my sides, never looking away from her eyes.

"We should go," I murmured, my voice low and husky.

She nodded, her cheeks slightly flushed, and her breathing erratic as she held my gaze.

"I'll meet you down there," I said softly before turning and fleeing down the stairs, at a complete loss as to what had just occurred.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Here it is! Chapter 4!**

**Special thanks to all of you who reviewed! **

**Chapter 4: Shopping Loot and Introductions**

**Chloe P.O.V.**

Frozen in place, I watched as Derek quickly descended the attic stairs to help unload Trace's van. My mind was whirling. What had just happened? I had thanked him for saving me, and then I'd gotten lost in those gorgeous green eyes of his, perfectly at ease and panicking at the same time…

I shivered involuntarily at the memory, but it was one of pleasure, not of horror. I tried to pinpoint the emotions that had been surging through me like electrical pulses, but I couldn't put a name to them. The intensity with which I had felt them scared me a little, yet I found myself craving that feeling.

"Chloe! Hurry up! There's a bunch of stuff down here for you!" Tori yelled from the first floor.

"Coming!" I called back with a smile; Tori sounded ecstatic after the shopping excursion. With a final look around the attic, I made my way down, shutting the door behind me and pushing all thoughts of what had just occurred to the back of my head.

"There you are," Trace sang as I walked into the now-packed kitchen. Plastic bags with bright colored brand names on them covered every surface. The air smelled of newness, and somebody's cologne, probably Adrian's or Xavier's. "As you can see from the current state of the kitchen, our little trip was successful. It would be great if you could take your things up to your room, get settled in, and then come back down to help sort out everything for the rest of this place. There's plenty of it."

"Ok," I said, looking around to get started. Unfortunately, I had no idea what I was supposed to be taking to my room. "Um, where exactly are my things?"

Trace laughed. "Ask Tori; she was almost as excited to get your stuff as she was to pick out her own."

"Over here, Chloe!" I turned toward the sound of Tori's voice, and saw her grabbing several bags from a huge pile near the back door. I internally groaned at the thought of what all that thin plastic might be covering.

"What is all this, Tori?" I asked, walking over to her.

"Our new wardrobes, of course. Here, these ones are yours. Let me grab mine and we can take everything upstairs," she said enthusiastically as she thrust an armful of shopping bags into my arms. I staggered under the sudden weight.

"You got all those, Chloe? I can help you carry them to your room," Simon offered as he came in with the last of the bags.

"Thanks Simon but I can handle these," I told him as Tori found the last of her bags and took off up the stairs. I followed her at a calmer pace, and by the time I passed her room, I could see her purchases strewn around it.

Once in my room, I gratefully dumped all of the bags onto my bed and plopped down beside them. Mentally preparing myself for the worst, I began to take out what Tori had got me. Surprisingly, it was mostly practical clothing, with nothing frivolous or inappropriate for the circumstances. Two pairs of jeans, half a dozen shirts, two hoodies, a pair of sweats, a heavier jacket, a baseball cap and a beanie, and a pair of inexpensive running shoes soon lay out on my bed, in addition to a pile of necessary undergarments. After carefully removing all tags, I quickly folded everything and placing it in my dresser along with the clothes I had been wearing when I arrived, which Vladimir had cleaned using a helpful spell. I prayed that he would teach it to Simon in case we ended up on the run again.

I was just finishing when Tori appeared in my doorway with a bag in hand.

"These are the rest of your things, " she said while simultaneously emptying the bag onto my bed.

I looked at the items now on the bed. A new, sturdier backpack. A heavy-duty sleeping bag. A flashlight, a pocketknife, and a small dagger. I looked back to Tori, questioningly.

"In case we have to leave again," she said quietly. I nodded. Though neither of us voiced it, we both knew that eventually, we'd be on the road again. Regardless of how "safe" this safehouse was, in reality, it wouldn't be safe forever. We would have leave. The only unsure part was when.

Andrew, Shiraz, and Vladimir returned shortly after Trace, Xavier, Age, Tori, and Simon. The fridge and pantry were stocked, the rooms were furnished with the furniture from the attic and new appliances and bedding, and everyone had clothes and necessities. After everything was situated and put in its proper place, Andrew called a meeting in the living room to formally introduce everyone. I ended up between Derek and Tori on the couch while Simon perched on the arm. Trace, Xavier, and Shiraz shared the other couch, and Vladimir sat on the ground leaning back onto Shiraz's legs. Andrew and Age each sat in an armchair. Andrew cleared his throat before beginning.

"I know that almost everyone has already become acquainted with each other, but I thought it might be a good idea to be formally introduced and know a little bit about everyone. So to start it off, my name is Andrew. I'm 47 years old and a sorcerer. I used to work for the Edison Group before I realized the truth of what they were doing. I also consider myself to be an uncle of sorts to Simon and Derek," he said with a nod to each boy. No one else seemed to have noticed the tiny pause right before he said Derek's name, but I did, and I knew that Derek did too.

Age went next.

"Hey, I'm Adrian, but I go by Age. I'm a 24 year old half-demon and the older brother of Trace. The Edison Group killed both our parents years ago in a raid. Since then we've pretty much wandered from safehouse to safehouse as the need arises. My powers are strong, and I'm both a fire and water half-demon, which allows me to manipulate both elements. Speaking of which-" he paused, raised his hand toward the fireplace, and lit the logs on fire. "-it's a little chilly in here," he finished with a grin.

"Show-off. My name is Trace, and as Age already told you, he's my older brother. I recently turned 21, but I accept late gifts," she said with a wink. "I'm also a half-demon, one with the ability to control fields of all types. I have the additional ability to sense the relationships between people, though I can't affect them at all. And finally, I'm engaged to Xavier, my favorite sorcerer in the world." She finished with a huge smile.

"As my fiancée kindly pointed out, I'm a sorcerer. I usually go by Xavier, but I do respond to 'Hey you!'. Im 25 years old. I have never personally had a run in with the Edison Group, but I have seen what they've done and are doing and wish to stop them before they ruin anymore lives."

"I'm Shiraz. I'm a 36 year old witch that specializes in illusions. Don't believe everything you see," she said with a grin.

"That feisty woman is my wife – can I get some sympathy? Just kidding. My name is Vladimir. I'm 37 years old, and a sorcerer. I was captured as a young boy and experiemented on by the Edison Group. Not to the extent that they have done with you four, " he said with a nod to our little band of runaways, "but still quite a bit. As a result, I can shift my appearance at will, though I rarely do so, as it is quite exhausting to change forms."

"Hey, I'm Simon. I'm 16 years old, and a genetically modified sorcerer. I was experiemented on by the Edison Group, who label me a failed experiement. I don't know many spells, but I'm a quick learner. My father, Kit, went missing almost a year ago, most likely on the run from the Edison Group as well. Derek is my brother. I love to draw."

"My name Victoria Enright, but if you call me that, I will light you on fire. I'm Tori, 17 year old genetically modified witch. My bitch of a mother is Diane Enright, who knowingly had the Edison Group experiment with me. My favorite thing to do is program."

"Hi-i, I'm Chloe S-saunders. I'm 16, and a g-genetically m-modified necromancer. I can't control my powers very well, and can raise the dead in my sleep. My dream before everything happened was to become a script writer and director," I said, cursing my stutter.

"Derek, 17, genetically modified werewolf. Don't expect me to like you or trust you," was all Derek said.

There was a pause, then Age said, "Well, now that everyone is familiar with each other, how about some dinner? I make a mean meatloaf!"

Everyone agreed and began standing up and leaving. As I stood up and stretched, I felt someone watching me. I turned around and immediately locked gazes with Derek. He stared back at me with the same intensity, brow slightly furrowed as if he was trying to solve a difficult problem. The feelings and emotions from the attic rushed into my mind as I stared into their emerald depths. I flushed and turned away, more confused than ever.

**A/N: So how was that? Not an overly exciting chapter, but I felt it needed to be in here. As always, read and review!**


End file.
